One of the best compliments you can receive as a musician is the notion of irritating music writers.  The Dead C has always been one of the most difficult groups to describe.  Like many psych rippers and no wavers, much of the Dead C’s repertoire specializes in noise and structure breakdown.  But simply labeling it as noise is shortsighted, as the Dead C operates as more of an improv group.  There’s always been “structure,” more or less, and if you listen closely, the Dead C often comes across as a damaged Spacemen 3, Space Needle, or other fuzz-heavy, post-punk-informed groups with the word “space” somewhere.  There are solid songs throughout, always head warping, and always fed through multiple demonic filters to cultivate that otherworldly presence.

However, the recently releasedThe Secret Earth takes a large stride toward songdom.  “Plains” is the most impressive example of this.  A 9-minute sprawler (but also one of the shorter tracks), “Plains” lurches and squawks like a Suicide jam session, roughens the noise guitar edges like Loop’s most interstallar work, and comes replete with wrist-heavy jazz drumming juxtaposed against Mike Morley’s faint, paigned throat exercises.

Paul Haney from Tiny Mix Tapes sums the Dead C’s latest rather nicely:

Secret Earth finds The Dead C providing the comfortable thrills of their skewed take on rock music across an entire long-player without hitting cliché or repetition. As the band has remained consistently vital and perplexing over their 20-plus-year career, it’s not terribly shocking that Secret Earth is one of their strongest releases, but one still gets that tinge of immense satisfaction hearing them produce a record this far into their career with every wrenching noise and dissonant sonic standing unrelentingly strong.

MP3 :::
The Dead C – Plains

Christ wilikers. Jason Savvy is straight up awesome style. He emailed me yesterday and offered up a nice dusk-time peek through the 88 Boadrums’ looking glass. In tandem with the theme, Jason shot eight videos at 88 seconds a piece, and included some choice photos. I’m totally digging the Close Encounters of the Third Kind vibe.

As Gang Gang Dance took over camp counselor duties in New York, Eye and Company led the brigades at the La Brea Tar Pits. Jason’s report from the war zone:

“it was so cool! transcendent! there were thousands of people listening to psychedelic power noise situated right above giant subterranean gas and petroleum pools rising to the surface. you couldn’t write this shit. how bizarre and beautiful.”

So there you have it. Thanks again, Jason! I very much covet your experience Friday night. By the way, are the noise boize still answering to Boredoms these days, or have they transfered everything to their Vooredoms domain? Answer and get a free Boredoms ringtone.